Minecraft
by Sensei200
Summary: Some daydream about it. Some play it excessively, and others fantasize about being sucked in; others do not have to fantasize. (Rating may change with future updates)
1. Prologue

Minecraft...

Some of us daydream about it. Some of us play it excessively, while others fantasize about being inside of it. Others don't fantasize. Others don't daydream. Others don't have to play.  
Only a few are like this. They are part of it. They never played, and this is life to them. Life in a universe more simple than ours. One with physics less complex, and horrible monsters that creep from underground at night. One with coal and shining diamond all available together, broiling pools of lava and other terrifying dimensions, where the landscape was very clearly constructed of some sort of three meter by three meter cubes. Cubes that could be turned into other things, or simply put somewhere else by the will of these humans. They would be stored in their mind, until ready for use.  
This universe would pull in and nearly brainwash a random person, as long as they met the conditions:

1) They had to be no younger than twenty, and no older than twenty five.

2) They needed survival instincts

3) Most importantly, they needed the soul of an artist, and creativity of one too.

They would continue life in the normal world, while existing also in this "Minecraft" world. On the occasion of three deaths, they would continue existence in the normal world, but cease to exist in Minecraft.

Once they were in,they kept their creativity and instincts, and remembered their language, but their past was gone forever.

And ever.


	2. Chapter 2: complications at the doorstep

AN: Well, at your request here is your "more story I must read." Thanks pinkkittwice. (Sorry I think I spelled that wrong) If you were wondering, it isn't pixels, and tools and entities are perfectly real. The land is just made of blocks, for those who wondered.

The day was still young, as the sun rose above the magnificent peaks of Minecraftia. On these peaks were trees and grass, flowers and ferns, with the occasional wild pig or cow. A couple of chickens padded along the landscape. The blocky and simple landscape. This was what many called "peaceful." It was anything but peaceful though; rumors of a person coming to Minecraftia, a creative soul, were spreading, and not silently. The animals didn't know when or where, but all were exited and busy. They bustled about, occasionally oinking or mooing, with the occasional cluck, understood only by the animals. Suddenly a loud, "BAH" could be heard, as a sheep looked into the sky. A blue vortex was shooting from the heavens, far above, traveling very quickly. Animals dashed away from it, others standing entranced. A few second later it hit the ground, butchering several surprised animals, and leaving nothing behind. When it faded, a young man, wearing simple blue attire, was left, confused and groggy, but standing. He stumbled, and tripped, falling face first into the dirt, and staying there. He groaned and made a small noise in his dried throat, while slightly tilting his head. What he saw what was around him, combined with his lack of memories, frustrated him. Indeed, he had no memories, but logic told him something was wrong. Something was out of place. The landscape was made entirely of blocks half his height.  
He couldn't take it. It was too much to take in. So he did the only thing that seemed sensible: He screamed, a scream of undying terror, which echoed through the empty land, with no response. None. He was alone. He buried his head in his hands once more, and wept quietly. What was he to do?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Building and crafting.

After a long time of sobbing and hyperventilating, the unfortunate man decided to take action, and boy was he angry. So angry, he relentlessly smashed his fist into a small cube of grass. To his surprise, cracks formed. He continued punching, until it finally popped away. He could feel it was somewhere inside of him. But where did the thing go? He tried to visualize what he was carrying, and again, to his surprise, his vision of the world all but disappeared. It was replaced by a large grey grid. He was still there. In the back corner, he saw a small brown cube. He reached out and touched it. Contact with it took it from the large grid, and was put in his hand. Some magic was holding the mound of dirt together, or else it was just compact, as it stayed a perfect cube, even in his hands. He stared in wonder, before turning away from the grid. As if on cue, the grid faded away.  
"As if..." The man thought. He then tried hitting the ground with the cube. It was placed on the ground, as a solid block. He stepped on it. It was firm enough. Suddenly, he heard a small oink. He cast a frustrated glance in the direction, and spotted a perfectly blocky tree, and a pig. He ignored the pig, and started to punch the bottom of the tree. Once the block broke, the tree did not fall.  
"I guess Albert Einstein has no control here!" The man laughed. "wait a minute, how did I remember him?"  
When he opened the inventory the next time, he noticed something: a small grid in one corner. Experimenting, he put the dirt there. Nothing. He placed the wood. Now, another slot appeared. A block of wooden planks was in this slot. It seemed to be only one plank block, but he could somehow tell that it would run out after hitting the ground four times. It was like a small number was placed next to it. Then, playing with the wood planks he now had, split the stack, putting an imaginary "2" next to each plank, and doing so again before filling the grid with them. To his utter surprise, this actually made something! A small table, with a few tools hanging on the side, and a cloth spread over the top. The man smiled, and placed it. It seemed like any other block, but there was something special about it... Something telling him to just... Look at the top.

AN: oohhh cliffhanger! Well, we'll see what the future brings for our character...


End file.
